Tikkun

One of the crew stopped by before motoring off again to the land of overpaid Arby's employees. We were so glad to have her within hugging range for a short while.

The plan was to cook a fabulous meal for the sake of old times. The kind that leaves everyone a little blissed out after it's over. After half an hour of coughing that left us with four pepper-ravaged throats, we finally were able to sit down long enough to eat our dish. But really, if we hadn't accidentally vaporized the spices, we would have accomplished our goal. If you decide to try Aloo Chat, we recommend that you excercise excruiating diligence when toasting your spices. Or that you ventilate your kitchen first. Or that you just cook the whole dish outside.

Aloo Chat
Gabonzo Beans
1 dried red chili
Boiled and diced potatoes
1 t cumin seeds
2 t salt
1 t black peppercorns
1 t dried mint
1 t cayenne pepper
1 t ground ginger
yogurt

Hold your breath. Grind up the spices with a mortar and pestle. Toast them dry. Mix half in with the beans and potatoes, and mix half with the yogurt. Serve it all up. Exhale.

So, that happened. And of course, a post from yours truly wouldn't be complete without hearty cultural allusion, and this one goes out to our estranged friend Gabers in New York. And to the really great Challah bread that Natalia made to go with the meal. Jewish tradition (and I'm not very familiar with it, so I apologize if I get it jumbled), has a creation story about the world splintering into scattered bits of light. The work of the present is to put it all back together by tikkun olam: repairing the world. And no, I don't think that we've brought about world peace by sitting down together to eat potatoes and garbonzo beans , but there is something marginally restorative about sharing a meal with a good friend who has come back for a visit. We're sending our goodwill with you to the plains, Natalia!

Sweet and Sour Shrimp...Without Sweet and Sour Sauce

Well, it's Monday and we're all back at work. Here's what Rabi and I made last night in an attempt to send us off on our week satisfied and well-fed:

















Sweet and Sour Shrimp:
About 1 1/2 pounds of shrimp
2 Tbsp. lime juice
2 Tbsp. rice wine (or rice vinegar, if that's all you have)
1 onion, sliced
2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
2-3 stalks celery, sliced
2 tomatoes, diced (or one can with no juice)
3 Tbsp. veg oil
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
1 Tbsp. ketchup
1 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 Tbsp. fish sauce
1 tsp. corn starch (dissolved in 1/3 cup water)
Salt
Cilantro (optional)

Prepare shrimp, wash, and pat dry. Mix with 1 Tbsp. lime juice and 1 Tbsp. rice wine. Slice onion, garlic, and celery. Saute onion, garlic, and celery in oil briefly. Add shrimp and saute 1 more minute. Add the rest of the lime juice, rest of the rice wine, tomatoes, brown sugar, ketchup, soy sauce, and fish sauce. Simmer for a few minutes. Add corn starch and bring to a boil. Salt to taste, garnish with cilantro! We served this on rice.







Disclaimer: I am typing this recipe from my memory. I looked at it a lot last night during the cooking process, so I'm 99% sure I remembered all the ingredients and the right amounts.


Also, thanks to Rabi for the photos!

Leftover Salmon. Or: WHY KRISTIN AND GABE ARE LAME!

That's right. This is a public shaming. We want to know what our distant friends are eating, and you're not telling. If this keeps up, I'm going to make new friends and blog with them instead. So there.

But in other news, I've been getting my omega-3s and promoting Montana's School Nutrition Programs-all in the same pizza. Although the salmon-pizza combination elicited some wrinkled noses when I brought it to work for lunch, it stirs up great, fecund Alaskan memories in my soul. Your loss if you agree with my coworkers.

But if you're feeling adventurous, here's how to play along.

1) Make a fillet lip smacking baked salmon with lemon and capers. Don't eat it all.

2)Through some dough ingredients together and let them rise in the window through which the 6 o'clock sun is streaming. If you're trying to authentically replicate my trip down memory lane (and what a metaphysical task that would be!), you should include yeast, warm water, olive oil, salt, and a mix of white and Kamut flour. Don't you dare measure.

3) Rummage around in your refrigerator for whatever seems pizza worthy. In my case, this was some sauteed onions and chard, the aforementioned salmon, a jar of sauce that I made from pilfered tomatoes last fall, and the sample "cheese" that the school lunch ladies wanted us to taste test.

4) Bake that shit. Eat it.

Due to my Daylight Savings-induced euphoria and the awful lack of south facing windows in our Birdhouse, this pizza was a free range one for about 5 minutes when I took it into the back yard for photographing.


Note the way that the cheese started burning before it ever got close to melting. Give us back our fat, USDA!

And incidentally, the primary title of this post refers to a band from Colorado who claim to have a distinct "polyethnic cajun slamgrass" sound. It's another sentimental Alaskan memory, if you'll indulge me.

Yummy Surprises

So, the other night Sarah and I decided to make some soup. It turned out to be pretty tasty! We used some leftover vegetable broth and one cube of chicken bouillon. It called for two cups of water, so that's what we added. We goofed a little bit by not sautéing the veggies (carrots, mushrooms, onion and garlic) ahead of time before adding the liquid. However, we survived.

We separately stir fried the veggies (by we I mean Sarah), and I added the chopped, raw chicken breast to the simmering broth. While all this was going on, I remembered that we were going to put potatoes in the mix and I had recently found some purple potatoes in the fridge from last fall. Well, by this time, the chicken was almost already cooked and the veggies were ready to go in the mix. I used our potato peeler that is way too dull, chopped the potatoes and then nuked them to catch up with the rest of the stuff in the pot. I am quite the thinker....actually this was Sarah's idea.

We seasoned the soup with seasonings, but I couldn't tell you what went in, because I was busy cleaning some sticky brown substance that had accrued beneath our produce drawers in the fridge. Or maybe I just wasn't paying attention.

Needless to say, it turned out to be really yummy. We paired it with a salad with radishes and $1.49 ShurSavings Italian dressing. Mmmwahh!